Gauken Academy for Gifted Youngsters
by DeathbladeMeister
Summary: Toris was normal. Until the powers came. Now he's trapped in a crazy school with crazy people, most of who could kill him with their eyelashes. UH-OH! GaukenHighSchool!AU, Superhero!AU, some Nyotalia and gender bending.
1. 1: The Phenomena

**Hi guys! I really houls be working on the End of the World, but this bunny wouldn't leave me alone. So here it is.**

**Thank you very much to aronpuma and Sode no Shirayuki1411 for the beta!**

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Chapter One- The Phenomena

Toris considered himself to be one of the lucky people on the planet. He had never been the one everyone admired, liked or wanted to be. He had never been desired, or envied, either. But he had parents who loved him and whom he loved in return, a stable home life and little-more-than-stable grades, an average face, an average body, and an overall average life.

He knew what he had was good- better than most- and he was content with the idea that what he had was what he needed. He also thought he knew what was ahead- good grades, a middle-class job, a loving wife and family, with nothing remarkable or special to ever give him more than what he already had.

Life's a bitch, sometimes.

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It began when he was sixteen.

Books would no longer need to be read, for he already knew the information. It would stick in his head and he would never need to read it again. Once, he took a voluntary Russian course, and as soon as he picked up a dictionary, he was fluent.

Barely three weeks after he had realised this 'ability'- he certainly didn't consider it a gift, or a talent- he spoke all major European languages, and most Asian ones. He could recite the encyclopaedia in the library word for word, and understand any electrical device that his parents had decided to keep the manual for.

He kept it secret, he kept it safe. It worried him, it stressed him out -so much so it caused his parents to take him to counselling- which _wasn't_ fun- and told no-one. Everyone knows what happens to those who are different, special. Taken away and prodded until there are enough of them for a rights cause to get hot under collar. And since he was the only one, he was pretty much fucked.

But he survived, until the exams came. He'd been panicking the previous night, and it didn't occur to him to in fact, _fail _ the papers. He passed every single one, with full marks, and he didn't even realise he had done.

When his results came to the attention of the school, they had first thought he cheated. An average person doesn't ace an exam that easily. When they realised that there was no way he could have cheated- in fact he had fallen asleep halfway through at least four papers- they began to wonder if he may be the one they were warned about.

You see, if Toris had turned on the news, he would have seen stories of a boy in Germany who literally could not die. Stories of a family in China suspected of hiding at least natural octuplets. Stories of grand arsons in Krakow, suspiciously all centred around upmarket shopping stores.

He was not the only one- and there indeed was a place for people like him.

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It seems some governments have a sick sense of humour.

Most have the common courtesy to wake you up before they kidnap you. Some just let you wake up.

"What the fuck?" he screamed.

He was in a hospital bed, in a room about four metres square. The walls were white, though had distinct burn marks on them. The only furniture inside the cell (assuming it was indeed a cell) was the bed he sat on, a small wardrobe, and a side table holding up an envelope and a copy of Harry Potter, in English.

He tried the door, shook it, it was locked. He noticed that the hinges had recently been re-attached, and broken easily. The wardrobe ha two school uniforms inside, a beige V-neck sweater with a shirt and dark green tie, accompanied by either blue check dress trousers or a maroon pleated skirt.

Coming to the conclusion that the clothes were for him, he changed from the pyjamas the captors had left him with to the boy's attire, wondering why on earth they would have left him a skirt. His long hair _could_ be mistaken for a girls', he guessed, or it could be a generic wardrobe for all kidnappees.

Or they could kidnap some very strange people.

Toris sat back down on the bed, and contemplated his situation.

1. He was in a strange room he'd never been in, no idea where he was.

2. He had no way of contacting the outside world, or escaping.

3. No food.

4. His kidnappers had left him a _skirt_. (No, he still wasn't over that).

He didn't ask why he was there or how they knew what he was; to be totally honest, it didn't matter. He was there, and he needed to get out. Looking round, he could draw a few conclusions.

1. His kidnappers wanted him alive. Whether that be for torture or experimentation he didn't know, but he was obviously no use dead.

2. The kidnappers may have a school. He was wearing a school uniform, of all things.

3. Most likely, he was in a country which spoke English- the novel he had been left was in that language. So probably England or America.

He still hadn't opened the envelope on the side table, so he decided to rectify that, and examine the contents.

_Boungiorno , Tory !_

_You're probably wondering why we have to leave this room without food , water, toilet, or explanation . The first three that really have no excuse , but here the fourth, then friends again!_

_For your own safety (and the general public) there was transferred to a safe place where you can learn to control what you can do. Since we stole , we really have no idea what it is, but we are about 99.9 % that you have a mandate. And if you want to know what happened the last time we asked for someone to come to us, instead of kidnapping ... let's just say that you do not mention the word " Molotov " in front of a professor of Olympia , okay?_

_Your school! Yay ! This is not funny ! Get off , not really, but I hope you enjoy your time Gauken Academy. One dorm or your friends will come soon . Please do not leave permanent damage to his face._

_Special Agent Dean Vargas_

The letter was in awfully translated Lithuanian, probably gone through Google Translate. But as soon as he had finished absorbing the contents of his message, Toris heard a steady click-clack of shoes and a jangling of keys.

When the door swung open, he was greeted by his presumed dorm-mate in the letter- a girl most likely an inch or two shorter than him, with bright blonde hair and shocking green eyes. Her tie was loose and thickly knotted, skirt rolled, and sleeves hiked up to her elbows. There was a simple barrette keeping her fringe in place, and her face contained a somewhat bored, somewhat cocky expression.

She leaned in the doorway, cocked her head, and greeted him, in ridiculously accented Lithuanian;

"Hello, Lithuania. Welcome to the land of freaks, weirdos and utterly insane."

Toris, confused, replied. "America?"

She snorted, laughed, and grinned at him.

"No. Welcome to Canada, idiot."

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**Plz review, even if it's hate. I accept all your constructive critsism.**


	2. 2: The Eastern Bloc

**Chapter Two, my lovelies!**

**And a big thank you to Alfred F. Jones and Steve Kirkland-Irwin for**

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** creating my Betas.**

The girl- who would only introduce herself as 'Poland'- casually explained that he would now be attending Gauken Academy for Gifted Youngsters- an UN secret program set up two years previously to educate and contain those underage with somewhat superhuman abilities. The school currently had forty-five students, ranging from nineteen to twelve.

"Students come from, like, all over. We got like a shit tonne of Europeans, a handful of Asians, and five or six others." She popped a bright pink bubble she had been chewing in her mouth. "You'll be staying in East Europe block, which is like totally best- I redecorated, and now it's all totally hipstery!"

It seemed that his guide was… lacking in both tact and intellect, but it was an endearing quality. Somewhat annoying, but still cute. It also turned out she was pyrokinetic, and responsible for mass arson in the shopping district of Krakow.

"That's how they, like found me! I stole, like a load of shit from this shop, 'cause, like, nothing I don't want to burn does- so I had this new totally cool cami dress, a few minis, but I had like, had to get rid of the evidence, so I set the shops on fire! Then I had to do it again the next week, 'cause I saw these totally adorbes skinnies in the next store, and I kept doing it till they found me! Oh, look, like hi Hunny, darling!"

The girl approaching was a shade taller than Poland, with waist-length hair and a marigold tucked behind her ear. She wore the usual girl's uniform, and carried a backpack with a frying pan attached, for some strange reason. Her green eyes peeked from beneath her hair and lit up when she saw them both. She flashed a bright grin at Toris's female companion.

"Hey, Fel." She spoke English, which was the predominant language at the school, but it was clear that she was Eastern European- Hungarian or Slovak, if he was pressed to guess.

"I like, told you not to call me that, Hungary!"

"Oh, calm down, Poland cutie. And I've told you before, my name is Elizaveta. So, who is this?" she asked, running her gaze up and down Toris as if he were an exquisite specimen. It made him somewhat uncomfortable.

"It's, like Lietva, the new guy. Got to show him round since, like, we're in the same dorm and we didn't know if he spoke English."

"Why didn't they send Raivis?"

"He broke Belarus's Russia-restraining order and's being treated for stab wounds."

Toris didn't particularly appreciate being ignored or discussed, so decided to introduce himself to whom he assumed would be his classmate.

"Hello, my name is Toris. I'm from Lithuania."

"Oh, you speak Hungarian! How precious!" She squealed with a manic grin. "I'm Elizaveta, or Liz, whichever you prefer. Or Hungary, if you want your head beaten in with a cherry-red cast iron skillet."

"Like, hey!"

Elizaveta rolled her eyes at Poland. "By the way, Matthias is in the pony enclosure."

Poland jumped in the air, gave a small shriek, set on fire and disappeared. Liz gave a small smile and turned to Toris.

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay. She does seem to have the best, if misguided intentions."

Elizaveta's eyebrows hiked high up her forehead for a split second, then her face split into a blinding smirk.

"Yes, she does."

"May I ask why you aren't attending class?"

She looked ashamed, and faced the floor, as she began to walk with him down the pale corridors to the dorm. "I've been temporarily suspended, with a week of study hall. I threw my ex out of a fourth-floor window."

Toris did a double take- she didn't seem to be the type to defenestrate someone. She caught him staring, and had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"I don't usually throw people out of windows- but Gilbert's a special case, since he can survive it. That's his thing- bastard refuses to either die or get injured. Mine's super strength. I ripped the door off the kidnap room when I first arrived."

"I noticed. Were the scorch marks Poland?"

"No, that was Kun-Woo, one of the Koreas. I'm not sure which. What's your thing?"

He was confused. "What thing?" he asked.

"Your power."

"Ummm… I absorb information out of books. I touch one, I know everything in it, and can recite it perfectly."

"Oh, awesome! Much more useful than being able to break bricks with your fingernails."

"You're joking."

Liz gave him a serious look. "No. I've tried, I can."

They carried on, making small talk. Toris found Elizaveta was good company, if a little strange. She was from Budapest, and had turned herself into the authorities after almost killing her cousin by pushing him off a bridge. She'd spent three days in holding before waking up at Gauken. She had no idea why she liked her skillet (not a frying pan) so much, but she wasn't going to give up her weapon of choice any time soon. Her favourite subjects were the sciences and technology, and she despised art.

It also turned out that Poland was one of her best friends, and her other was a girl slightly younger than them, a healer named Feliciana. She was also in some secret club with one of the two Koreas, and Kiku, the Japanese student.

The bells for the end of the day began to ring shrilly as the pair reached the Aestii- or Eastern European- dorm. It was on the fourth floor, and separated into both girls, boys, and a common room. According to Elizaveta, there was a larger, communal interaction room in the basement, but that had been temporarily out of use because one of the younger students had caused a cave-in.

It must have depended on who you were, but two things stood out when you entered.

One was that it was around minus ten degrees. The other was that it was flourescent pink.

Other than that, it seemed comfortable. It reminded Toris of a square log cabin, with a roaring open fire, though that was doing little for the temperature. The wall were lined with logs, and there was a polar-bear skin rug on the floor. Framed paintings of Eastern sights were on the walls, with a few crude pencil sketched of sunflowers. This was also the first room he had seen with windows, though they were currently boarded up with cardboard, from Liz's exploits a few days previously. There was a small door leading to the left, and a staircase going to the right, past the boarded window.

Elizaveta began to apologize. "I'm really sorry about the temperature- one of the other dormers, Ivan, controls snow and ice, and he makes it constantly cold. It drives Poland nuts, so she vandalizes the rooms. I'm afraid you came at a bad time."

She pointed up to the stairs. "The boys' room is upstairs. Professor Kanafaska should have put an extra bed in there for you. I suggest you start unpacking before the others get here and start stealing your shit."

After she had gone in the girl's door to the left, Toris proceeded up the stairs. Up about half a flight he came to a door, through which lay the boy's room.

There were six single beds, each dyed the same garish shade of pink a the common room. One with computers, one with sunflowers, one with chickens, and three blissfully plain. They had names carved into the headboards, thankfully, so Toris began to unload the case that was on the bed.

Clothes, a few books, and a few blank sheets of paper with stationary. Not much- it seemed that Gauken only stole the necessities. Looking round, the room itself was spacious, with large unboarded windows, privacy curtains and a communal toilet/wash block in a separate room. The room was circular, and all beds face inwards, and slightly towards the door.

Suddenly, Toris heard voices, approaching from the stairs. They spoke in Russian, though none of them had the bona fide accent.

"I tell you Raivis, you need to be more assertive. Tell her not to stab you next time."

"I can't! I've tried! It just doesn't work on demand."

Two of his new roommates entered. One was a light shade of blond, with blue eyes and glasses. He was supporting the other- a boy of no more than thirteen, with sandy hair and deep violet eyes. The smaller was not in uniform- he was dressed in a hospital gown and shorts, with bandages tied around his head and abdomen. They stopped and stared, both nodded a momentary greeting, and when the one with glasses laid the smaller on one of the plain beds, they introduced themselves properly.

The glasses one went first. He held out his hand to shake Toris's. "Eduard von Bock, Estonian, sixteen, re-coding."

The other raised his hand in a nervous wave. "Raivis Galante, Latvian, fourteen, telepathic persuasion."

Toris responded in the same manner.

"Toris Laurinaitis, Lithuanian, sixteen, ummm… information absorption?"

Eduard nodded. "Nice to meet you. We're sorry neither of us could meet you earlier. We got a little strung up in the hospital. Who ended up taking you? Gilbert, Wilhemina- god forbid _Natalya?_"

Toris wasn't sure how to respond- these people described were obviously his dorm mates, though they didn't seem like the most pleasant of people.

"Poland. But she ran off early on, so Elizabeta took me to the dorm."

Eduard looked a little stunned, and Raivis sniggered a little. Blushing, Eduard begun to speak again.

"Toris, Poland's-"

The room temperature dropped.

Shadows grew larger.

A mounting feeling of dread entered his heart.

Standing in the open doorway was the tallest man Toris had ever seen. At at least seven feet, with skin and hair as white as snow. His trench coat wrapped around his uniform. A pink scarf graced his shoulders. He bore a smile which said, 'I'm going to fuck you up.'

The monster walked forward.

"_Privyet. _I am Ivan, and you are Toris." he said, glancing shortly up at the name on the headboard. "You will become one with Mother Russia, _da?"_

Toris nearly shat his pants. The other two room occupants were quivering underneath the bed. He didn't know what to say. Did he agree? Did he disagree? Oh shit, he was going to die-

"_Kekkon, brat. Kekkon, brat. Kekkon, brat…"_

The sinister chant travelled through up the staircase, and Ivan's' face fell to the floor. He suddenly rose to his feet, and disappeared in an ice sheet, similar to the way Poland had vanished earlier.

Eduard crawled from under the bed, dragging a quaking Raivis behind him, muttering.

"For once in your life, thank you, thank you, _thank you, _Natalya."

Toris was just going to ask after this 'Natalya'- her having been mentioned three times now- but was cut of by the screams of physical assault from below.

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**Please review, guys!**


	3. 3: The Eastern Bloc- part 2

A big thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited, or reviewed. You guys are as awesome as Prussia.

But even more awesome are my beta's, Sode no Shirayuki and aronpuma.

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Chapter 3: The Eastern Bloc part 2

It turned out the source of the physical assault was a girl, with a blonde-red bob, bright red eyes, and vampire fangs. Who sparkled.

The sparkle-girl was sneering evilly at Elizaveta, whom was screaming, clawing at the floor and begging for mercy. Her eyes had turned the same shade as Twilight's, and tears were running out in steady streams.

With them was another girl, with excellent… assets, shall we call them. This one was throwing icicles at Twilight, and also crying, but her eyes were bright blue. She reminded Toris of Ivan, earlier; a sibling or cousin, maybe?

He didn't know what to do; his friend was being tortured, for fuck's sake! He could jump her, but she was a girl; he could throw something, but that seemed to be ineffectual. The door was open- he could go and get help! A teacher could make Twilight stop maiming Liz!

Keeping his eyes on the terrifying scene, he ran headfirst into a snowdrift by the now- frozen fireplace. In horror, he watched as a hefty chunk of snow fall off the cautious tip of the drift, right onto Twilight's head.

She gave no sign of noticing until the ice began to run down the back of her collar. Still not making a sound, she twisted her body to face Toris, focused her gaze on his eyes, and he found that he could not look away.

As soon as she begun to glare, he began to see things. The back streets of Vilnius, which every sane person feared. He wouldn't have thought he'd come back here. Too many memories. Wait, was he here? It wasn't real, or did she send him back? Then he saw knives being thrown. Empty space. Creaking noises. Green flashes. Laughing, laughing, SO MUCH LAUGHING-

It stopped. he was alone, in the dark. He felt a sharp prick in his arm. He swiveled his head, and saw a cruel doctor, in a white coat, mask and scrubs. The there was another, with an anesthetic mask. A third, with monitors and wires. He attempted to fight back, but was utterly paralyzed. He wasn't strong enough to fight them off- a superhero, unable to defend himself? Pathetic. Useless. Weak. Suddenly, there were thousands, with their equipment, all wanting a piece of him, not enough to go around- and the same cruel laughter in the green flashes-

It stopped. He was curled up on the floor, panting. Elizaveta had stopped screaming too, was now sobbing softly into her knees.

"Well, we got off to a bad start."

Toris looked up to see Twilight offering to help him to his feet. Not sure he would be able to stand on his own, he reached for her gloved hand and pulled himself up.

"Wilhelmina, or Mina, whichever. Romanian. And I think you can see what I do."

"You sparkle."

She glared at him for a brief second, and her eyes began to glow again. Toris braced himself for another panic attack, but instead she began to giggle. Mina then threw her head back in a high, witch's cackle.

"I don't usually look like a Meyer ripoff. I lost a bet with that Portuguese sunshine bastard downstairs. Who're you, anyways?"

"Toris, Lithuanian. I read books."

She raised her sandy eyebrows and smirked. "Cool. Well, I'll see you around."

She skulked off to the girl's room, still radiating an aura of menace. Assets was hugging Liz, and the two girls were both sobbing softly.

"It was the drums, Katty, why does she use the drums?"

"I don't know- none of us know what we see in the depths. You're okay, though, you know it's not real, you're in real life again, they can't get you here."

Toris leant down and patted her on the back, softly yet awkwardly.

"She's right, Elizaveta. You're safe here."

Liz raked in a choking sob, gave a few coughs, wiped her tears from her face, them drew her legs up to her chest and grasped them in a tight embrace. She looked severely disheveled, yet her marigold stayed in the same place. Her face and nose were a bright salmon-pink.

"I hate that bitch."

"Some of us find her methods reasonable."

Looking up, the three of them were greeted by an ice queen with waist-length white hair, around the same age as them. She looked the picture of innocence, with a modest skirt and white tights, and small pieces of ribbon woven into her hair.

Then she rushed forward, and shoved Toris up against the wall by the fireplace. She placed her index finger against the artery in his throat, and without expression, extended a fingernail into a sharp claw.

Assets (Katty, or Katie, was it?) screamed in Ukrainian.

"Natalya, no!"

Nails continued to stare down Toris. She held him there for a few more seconds, allowing him to analyse her.

She was very pretty, with deep violet eyes. Definitely related to Katty and Ivan, Toris decided. If she hadn't tried to kill him, he would most certainly be interested.

Nataya drew her claw away, and slammed him, hard, into the log pillar on the wall. Groaning, Toris shrank down to the floor. She followed, and as he nursed his injured head, she whispered;

"Stay away from brother; he is mine."

She then skipped out of the room, humming the wedding march. Toris thought he heard Mina scream when the door closed, but he could have been hallucinating.

Katty (whose real name was Yekaterina, and was indeed a sibling to both Natalya and Ivan) apologised profusely, shoved a voucher into his hands, and ran off with Liz to the hospital, presumably.

Before he could look, the scrap of paper she had thrust at him was snatched away by an albino man with a chicken on his head.

"Dude, one free load! You are one lucky piece of shit!"

"Excuse me?"

The man grinned, and waved the voucher high in the air.

"You got free pot, courtesy of Kat and the Lindens!"

Toris shuddered. The drug world was not one he wished to enter, since he knew what it could do to a person. Casual use was fine, he supposed, a life choice, but it wasn't for him.

"I don't smoke pot."

The albino was shocked. He practically jumped a foot in the air in horror. Toris wondered is the chicken was Superglued on the top of his head, as it remained in the exact same place.

Having recovered from ethical trauma, Albino addressed him again, leaning over him, grinning like a lunatic.

"Can I keep this then? Kat's stuff is the shit, but those Dutch fucks make it so expensive."

Eager to stop him looming over him and regain his personal space, Toris agreed hastily. Albino whooped for joy, punched the air, and ran upstairs.

Not noticing a patch of ice by the stairwell, he fell face forwards, faceplanting the ice with a sickening crunch. Toris could do naught but stare as he lay still, blood slowly trickling toward the floor in a thick, steady stream or slow drips.

Toris vomited. He'd just seen a man die, and no-one seemed to care, has was surrounded by people who could easily kill him, and most of them were nuts. What good was his power for defence? Two days, that was his estimate- I'm sorry mother, I'm sorry dad, I wasn't good enough-

Albino jumped up and carried on walking, singing German drinking songs, with no physical injuries, leaving a puddle of his own blood on the floor.

Toris felt his eyes widen, and didn't move for a few seconds. He could only come to the conclusion that he was rooming with a zombie.

"I like, see you've met Prussia."

Snapping his neck upwards so fast in fear he gained a crick, he saw Poland painting her nails the same pink as the room in the rafters, with her legs delicately crossed.

He stammered out; "Z-z-zomb-bie. R-r-r-rooomin-ng wi-t-th a z-zombie."

She giggled. "Prussia's only indestructible and only killable by old age. We've all tried, trust me. Unlikeable, but totally not undead."

Toris rose to his feet, keeping his eyes firmly on his kleptomaniac, pyrotechnic friend. It was unfortunate his legs were far from able to sustain his weight, and collapsed under him.

As he fell, he thumped his head once again against the log walls. This last hit seemed to much, and he passed out.

Poland sulked from her position in the rafters.

"ESTONIA! LIETUVA'S FAINTED! COME AND GET HIM BEFORE I LOOT HIS SHIT!"

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Toris awoke from a series of fever dreams several hours later. He had shot up rather too suddenly and had headbutted Raivis in the face. The two older boys had had to drag the smaller down to the hospital for the second time that day to check if his nose was broken.

It wasn't; and it was now ten at night, and he was playing blackjack with Eduard and Raivis. Toris had initially suggested they play for money, but after seeing both the evil look on Raivis's face and hearing the fervent protests from Eduard, he retracted his idea.

It was good he had; Raivis had won every game so far.

Ivan had gone to the Yazhou dorm in order to stalk his beau, Jun-quing, and Gilbert was stuck in the kitchen on the ground floor, making bratwurst sandwiches after Raivis had told him to make one himself when he demanded one two hours ago.

It seemed 'telepathic persuasion' was a fancy way of saying that the small Latvian could tell people to do whatever he wanted. Toris remarked on the fact that is was much better than his own, but Raivis had simply laid down an eight of spades (miss a go) and shrugged.

"Not if you can't tell when it works. The amount of stupid shit I've made people do- it doesn't make you popular. I once made one of the girls in my class back home shut up- and apparently she's still mute."

Eduard nudged Toris to take his turn.

"Re-coding's rather simple. I kind of do what you do, only with computers. I can change it, to- improve it, wreck it, hack it, allsorts. Great in an IT class."

"Except he can only do theory on the basis that using his powers could be seen as cheating."

Raivis grinned. Then the room flickered, and and returned to what Toris assumed was the natural warm brown colour.

Eduard looked around. "Seems Poland either ran into Ivan or got bored keeping it up."

Intrigued, Toris asked a question.

"Why does Poland call everyone by their country name? It seems a little racist, coming from a Pole."

Eduard answered. "A really embarrassing name. Poland hates it, and wasn't creative enough to think up a less embarrassing normal one. So everyone gets a country name."

Raivis gurgled from the bathroom, where he had gone to brush his teeth to go to bed.

"Too thick to actually remember forty-five names."

Eduard gave a small smile and began to shuffle the cards back into the pack. Toris glanced around, and noticed something.

"Someone's going to be pissed. Their bed's still bright pink."

Eduard glanced up, stopped sorting the deck, and looked straight at him. Raivis, who had reentered, began to giggle softly again.

Eduard seemed extremely awkward. "That one's always like that."

As Toris looked a little shocked, Raivis began to giggle harder. Observing the bed again, he could see the skirts and women's underwear poking out from underneath. Rather than the plain cotton sheets the other boys had, this one was lusciously fluffy, probably brought from home. As irresponsible as the school seemed to be, he doubted they would let a teenage girl share a room with five boys.

The name on the headboard was Feliks- a Polish name. Hadn't Liz called-

Eduard looked guiltily at him from his computer. "We assumed that was the cause of the fainting earlier."

Raivis was seemingly close to wetting himself.

Obviously, this information wasn't the cause earlier. But now, the fact that he shared a room with a flamboyantly (presumedly) homosexual Polish crossdresser, was enough this time.

He was sending his therapy bills to the school establishment.

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Please review guys! It means a lot.

Next chapter we actually get in the school. Any requests on who you want to see appreciated.


	4. 4: Day One- Breakfast

**What's this? I'm waking up at half past eleven on a school holiday to post Fanfiction? I must really like you guys.**

**Thanks agian to the American and the Australian.**

**Chapter Four: Day One at Gauken Academy- Breakfast**

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Gauken's school day began at 7:45 with the sound of crying babies.

"PRUSSIA, LIKE, _CHANGE _YOURALARM CLOCK!"

Toris groaned and put a cushion over his head. Today was Thursday, the first day at Gauken. Apparently, he would be attending the 'Psychic' classes, due to his power type. Eduard and Raivis were also in the Psychic class, whilst everyone else in the dorm was spread out between the other two classes; 'Physical' and 'Elemental'.

The boys dressed and headed down to breakfast in the assembly hall at 8:15. A few of the other dorms had already managed to get down there; he noticed Mina cuddling up to a boy with dark hair and green eyes, Elizabeta was smirking at a redhead girl and blond boy at the table she sat at, and Katty was in deep discussion with a pair of siblings- a girl with a green headband, and a boy with gravity-defying hair and a facial scar.

Gilbert whooped and ran off to a table next to the kitchen which seated two girls; Ivan snuck as far away from his younger sister's table as possible. Eduard began to drag Toris and Raivis to a bench seating five other students.

There were three boys and two girls, with varying shades of blonde hair. The girls were both quite short, but seemed very different. One was far too happy for someone at a school, with deep violet eyes, golden bobbed hair and a cute red beret with a white pompom on top, decorated with small silver snowflakes. She had what looked like small fireworks going off around her face. She was edibly adorable, but her smiling unnerved Toris, it was a little _too _happy.

The other was so pale she was almost white, and had long hair tied in single plait which encircled her head, with a stray curl which Toris wasn't sure was attached. She seemed to be completely emotionless, looked completely uninterested in the plate of Nutella toast she was nibbling at, and was listening, bored, to one of the three boys.

One of the trio was clearly the pale girl's brother- aside from the obvious difference in hair length, they could have been identical twins. They had the same bright white hair, and dark purple eyes. The boy had an angry-looking puffin on his shoulder, which he was nonchalantly feeding licorice as he watched his sister grow more aggravated with the boy she was conversing with. He kept slyly stealing her toast, and so every so often she would give him a terrifying glare that seemed to have no effect.

Another was sitting stoically at the table, holding his spoon in the air and moulding it into different shapes. A car, a bird, a paintbrush- whilst the happy girl stared in wonder, sometimes clinging on to his arm. He never smiled once though- but seemed to give her attention by glaring at her through his glasses everyone in a while. The discerning blue eyes seemed to have no effect on her, as she kept on smiling. Every so often the she would reach up to ruffle his dark-blond hair, and he would give her a ghost of a ghost of a smile.

The third, the one the pale girl was feigning interest in, was grinning like a lunatic, with sandy hair which Toris swore reached around a foot from the ground. That one was absent- mindedly making the milk in his cornflakes pour into his mouth, often forgetting to stop as he talked, resulting in his breakfast all over his face.

The smiling girl grinned even wider, as she noticed them and waved the three Baltic students over. They sat down on the available seats, as she slid into the scary guy's lap.

"Hyvää huomenta, Eduard, Raivis! And who is the new guy?"

Raivis also seemed to be as awkward as Toris felt; so didn't say anything. Toris felt it necessary to introduce himself without Eduard's help.

"I'm Toris, from Lithuania. I just arrived yesterday."

He swore if this girl smiled any wider her mouth would outstretch her face. She wrapped her arms back around the man's shoulders, her hands only just reaching each other, and introduced the other students.

"I'm Tina, and this is Berwald, we're from Finland and Sweden. Matthias is the cornflake guy-"

he waved, and wiped his breakfast out of his hair. "Luka's the other girl, she's Norwegian, oh and Matt is Danish- and Emil- that's the puffin guy, is Icelandic."

Emil gave him a curt nod, and walked through the table. Toris knew he'd never get used to that.

Tina sighed. "Ahh, young love.", as Emil sat down next to a Chinese student with long, dark flowing hair.

Eduard immediately began a discussion with her, something about one of the classes, as the tall guy, Berwald, carried on moulding his spoon into different shapes, and Raivis continued to sit in awkward silence. Toris decided on taking a few apples from the fruit bowl on the table and watching the other pair of students.

Luka had yet to acknowledge he was there; Matthias hadn't realised he was watching, and thus they proceeded to argue somewhat quietly. Observing, Toris noted that whilst they were extremely different- Matthias being loud, crash and expressive, Luka maybe being mistaken for a robot- the pair seemed to be close.

"Norge, I can eat how I want!"

"No you cannot. Were are in polite company."

"No one gives a shit."

"I do. Is that not enough?"

"Ummm… not really?"

"What will it take for you to act civilized?" she sighed.

Matthias's face pulled out into a sly smirk. "I know you find it cute, but I'll stop if you smile for me, beautiful."

A fleet of anger flew across her face. "I do not. Smile, I mean. Or find you cute. Actually, neither- but especially about finding you cute."

"You do. You talk in your sleep."

"If I didn't share a room with a Finnish psychopath I would be concerned with how you knew that, and file a restraining order."

"You know you wouldn't."

"Are you willing to risk that?"

Matthias was about to respond to her question, but his face lit up as he saw a familiar face across the room. Standing up onto the table, he waved his arms at the tank of ice water in the corner of the dining-room, next to the kitchen. The water blew out of its rivets and rose up to swirl around his head, dripping onto some of the other students as it flew over them.

"OI! SEXYPANTS!"

The rest of the dining room hardly responded, this was obviously a daily occurrence. A few students immediately drank any fluid in their vicinity, and some others began to order betting slips from two girls, one in a pink coat, another with a rice paddle, but mostly everyone ignored him.

Luka shot a brief jealous look at the name 'Sexypants' but just rest her hand on her face, propping herself up on the table. "Try not to have your underwear burnt off again."

Toris watched as Matthias began to wave his hands, and the water copied his motions. His adversary remained seated, slowly chewing on a breadstick. The Danish boy began to bend his arms backwards, in an overhead throwing motion. As he thrust his arms forward, though, he failed to notice small flames, tinier than those of candles, begin to singe the tips of his spiked hair. Toris wondered if he should say anything; no-one else seemed to bother.

Matthias extended his palms, indicating the water should go forwards. As it began to rush, the flames suddenly spread downwards toward his scalp, frying away the very top of his mane. He gave a small shriek, and made the water rush back toward himself, quenching the flames, but effectively drowning the rest of the table.

Poland quickly took a picture with abright pink mobile phone. "Like, Warsaw, six, Copenhagen, nil. I need to Instagram this shiz."

Tina began to squeeze out her Santa beret, looking somewhere between high and nonchalant, Eduard did the same with his blazer. Raivis just sighed and left for a new table, where Toris overheard him ask a petite blonde if he could borrow her hairdryer. Berwald hadn't really reacted, except for the fact that he had changed most of the cutlery on the table into somewhat deadly looking knives.

Luka had simply shot a fistful of lasers at her (friend? boyfriend? pet masochist?)'s face, apologised to the table for the disruption and dragged Matthias out of the room by his tie. Matthias gave a small shriek as he went through the door; having decided her beret was ruined, Tina made his boxers explode. A boy in a white mask groaned, and handed over what looked to be a ten-dollar note to the girl in the pink coat, who grinned smugly and put it in a safekeep tin box.

Emil and Raivis both returned from where they had been convesing with fellow students. Raivis simply sat down and leant his fringe over the bench to get the water to drip from his fringe. Emil felt the need to apologise.

"I'm certain my older sister will not be embarrassed by her behaviour, but I am. Please accept her apology by proxy. Excuse me."

The Icelander followed his sister's path out of the door to leave the room. Tina also left, exclaiming something magic elves being able to summon the gates of Hell. Berwald followed, grunting a curt goodbye. Eduard waved at his friends as they left, on by one.

"Well, they were nice, weren't they, Toris? I'm confident you've just made five good friends."

Toris just stared incredulously. "Are you mad, Eduard? Actually, are they mad as well?"

Raivis was the one to respond. "Yes, he is. Yes, they are. But you'll find that the five Nordics and the one honorary Nordic/ Baltic are some of the sanest people in the school."

Toris stopped a moment, thought that through, and began to slam his face on the damp surface.

"Baltics, if you're not too busy attempting suicide, the awesome me has a favour to ask."

The trio turned to face Gilbert, who was holding three lilac-coloured cards.

"Me and the trio want to mess with Artie, and he's in your class."

Raivis looked skeptical. "What's in it for us?"

"One large vodka, 1 free IT swap, and whatever the new guy wants."

The other two looked at each other and conducted a small silent conversation. They both gave small nods, and turned back to their German roommate.

"Dibs not it."

"Dibs not it."

Toris just looked confused.

"Dibs not what?"

* * *

**Poor Latvia and Estonia. Toris is going to kill you for this.**

**On a side note, I need superhero names for everyone. If you would like to suggest a name, leave it in your review. If you want to name a character but you don't know their power, ask me. The only character with a superhero alias is Poland, so don't ask to name him.**

**Please follow, favourite, and review!**


	5. 5: The Physicals Classes

Once again, thanks to aron and Sode.

Chapter Five- The Physical Classes

* * *

"You know what guys? Fuck my life."

"Oh, grow up Toris."

"No, really. You two are the worst friends ever."

"Surely we're not that bad-"

"YOU HAVE ME IMPERSONATING A PANSEXUAL FRENCH WOMAN!"

It turned out that the lilac cards earlier were made by Lars Linden, one of Yekaterinas' pot- selling buddies. He was an illusionist, and could use portable cards to maintain illusions for an extended period of time. He and his sister, Anri, had made a large profit out of using their powers for personal gain. Aside from drug-dealing, they also allowed people to masquerade as each other, and Anri could make people hallucinate without drugs, which was a good sideline, because some didn't want to deal with the side-effects of marijuana.

Gilbert, and his two friends, were some of their most loyal customers. They often bought cards to go and mess with their frenemies in other classes.

Unfortunately, one of them was female.

"Well, Monique, I do say you look especially alluring today."

Toris glared at Raivis. "I hate you."

Raivis just grinned. He was made up to look like Antonio, the third Spanish member of the Bad Touch Trio. Technically, Antonio was Antonia, but she sometimes attended class as her male counterpart, as she was a shapeshifter. He pushed his hair back, and blinked through his green eyes.

"Not as much as you could. You don't know what you're expected to be able to to do."

Toris just stopped dead in the middle of the corridor. He hadn't thought of that- he hadn't bothered to check what this French girls' superhuman abilities were.

"What am I supposed to be able to do?"

Eduard looked nervous. Raivis began to look more uncomfortable as well.

"Umm...well..she can…"

"Hey, Frenchy!"

Toris turned, and saw the boy in the white mask from earlier. Now he was closer, he could see that he was a year, maybe two, older than him, and had a darker complexion than most of the other students. He swaggered up the corridor towards them, reached into his pocket, pulled out a note and stuffed it down Toris's school shirt.

"I'm reserving a spot for dead on four, okay? A proper one, I'm paying good money for that. If I change my mind, I'll come and find you."

Toris started a bit. He now had a bit more of an idea who he was pretending to be.

"Oui, I will service you...umm..."

Eduard jumped to the rescue. "Sadiq, we'd love to stay, but we really have to go. Kerkouane'll kill us if we're late again."

"Oui, Sadiq, we have to go."

He just laughed. "Never thought I'd see the day when you're concerned about classes! Well, see you around, Monique, Gilbert-" garing at Raivis- "Spanish bitch."

He strode past them and turned left, to go to the Psychic class.

Eduard and Raivis backed up to the wall as Toris approached them.

He spoke in a monotone voice, which was quite threatening, actually, and reeked of threats of physical harm.

"Tell me, with complete honesty, either of you- am I pretending to be the school whore?"

With Toris looming over him, Raivis shrieked out, "YES! NO! KIND OF BOTH!"

Eduard gave a more legible answer. "She can make people orgasm on demand! She doesn't actually sleep with them!"

Calming down, Toris stood up straight, allowing the other two boys to escape around his sides. He pulled out the note Sadiq had given him, and gave a low whistle. Monique was not generous with her 'services'. Fifty for one 'go.'

Raivis called back to him- the pair had begaun to proceed. "You might want to keep a note of who wants what at what time. She makes a point of punctuality."

Toris sighed, and began to scribble down Sadiq's order in a notebook that he had been left, as they walked down to the class.

* * *

They weren't late, thankfully. Walking in, there were thirteen students in the room, spread out over the place. There were three leftover seats, one which Raivis took next to a Hispanic boy Toris's didn't know yet, one beside Elizaveta which Eduard sat on after flashing his card at her, as she had been staring mercilessly at him. So the only one left was the one on the right of Natalya.

Natalya hitched her chair as far to the left of the two-person desk as possible as Toris cursed his two roommates under his breath. She then took out a wedding catalogue to sift through, and ignored him, only pausing to occasionally glare at two Asian students in the front row. With his partner distracted, Toris had time to look around the room.

The classroom was light blue, with large, airy, open windows. It was two to a desk, in four rows of four. A few students had turned round to talk, some were flicking through books, but none were actually doing work. Emil and Berwald were sat in the second row, in deep discussion, but aside from Mina, Liz and Natalya, he didn't know anyone else. On top of the board in front of them, in the right- hand corner was written 'Professor C. Kerkouane', in a tight, bold scrawl.

Eduard, who was talking to Liz in the second row, glanced back and gave him a small wave, which he returned. Elizaveta looked confused for a second, but when Eduard whispered something in her ear, her face lit up in recognition and she send him a small smile of pity.

Unfortunately Mina, who was seated at the desk in front of Toris, but behind Elizaveta, mistook the direction of the smile, and took offence.

"What are you smiling at, bitch?"

Elizaveta, most likely having suffered brain damage from her last encounter with the Romanian, replied.

"Whatever I want to."

"That doesn't give you the right to grin at me."

"It doesn't not."

Mina narrowed her eyes to a glare. "I see your game. You're watching me be happy, pervert. While you're alone and unwanted."

Elizaveta grinned. "You're watching me, whore. You said so yourself. And I'd rather be alone than with a coward."

Toris watched as the fight began to grow more heated, and more personal. The guy sitting next to Mina- presumably her boyfriend- just seemed to be bored. The pair moved onto insults, then death threats, and then Elizaveta picked up a pencil and began to make threatening gestures-

"Please keep you squabbles for outside my classroom, Miss Hedevary, Miss Drakyula."

The teacher had entered. Mr Kerkouane was tall, with dark skin and black shorn hair. He had a small portable walkie-talkie strapped to his belt loops and his merlot tie fit snugly in his collar. He plonked his briefcase onto the teachers' desk and began to hand out small sheets of paper.

"For those of you that don't remember, the sine rule is a/A = b/B = c/C…"

* * *

"Two minutes. It took you all of two minutes to be thrown out for impersonating another student."

Toris hung his head in shame. "I just thought the questions were easy."

"Using quadratic formula to work out the gradient of a concave curve graph mentally is not easy."

After being handed a textbook, having completed the starter activity, the professor had thrown Toris out into the corridor, when he had drawn a perfect graph from an equation, mentally. He'd spent the last fifty minutes sitting on the hall floor, collecting orders from Monique's regulars. The woman had earned nearly CAN $300 in the last hour. Eduard and Raivis were currently walking him to the next lesson, which seemed to be in a different building.

"Even Raivis took five the first time."

"But that was only because I couldn't speak the language."

"Actually, in hindsight, getting a Latvian to impersonate an Italian in an Italian language class wasn't the best plan."

"Probably not."

"Has Lovino forgiven you for that?"

"Given the last time we met he made the basement collapse, I'd say not."

Toris tuned out to conversation to look around. Gauken- the actual school- was a modern, tall white mansion. It consisted of a main building, with two extra wings jutting out from the side, making it a kind of square 'C'. It was six floors high, if you included the basement. The ground floor was communal living, dining and kitchen, with a huge welcoming and assembly hall. The first floor contained classrooms for the five 'core' subjects- Literature, Maths, Science, History, and a developmental 'Powers' class. The dorms for the students from both Africa (two students) and the American continents (three students) were also on the same floor.

The second floor was for the student elective classes- Art, Dance, Languages, etcetera. It also hosted three dorms; the Balkan dorm, the Nordic dorm and the South-East Asia dorm. The third was purely teacher accommodation. Since all the staff at the school were either government special agents, psychologists or scientific researchers, they were all required to stay with their students.

The fourth floor was shared by the two biggest groups of students together- the East Europe wing and the West Europe wing. Collectively, the two dorms had twenty- four students, making up over half of the student body. It also had the student hospital, which originally had been debated over the necessity, but had since proved itself to be a vital part of the school, give the frequency of injuries sustained by students..

The fifth floor, technically the attic, and was highly secretive- no students allowed. There was wire mesh disallowing the pupils from flying up, and precautions taken to stop those whom could teleport inside. The dean of the school had explained that since the school was governmental, there were requirements made for staff meetings, which were highly classified. They wouldn't be allowed into security meetings as civilians or as students, so they still weren't allowed in as measures of international security.

The hole in the otherwise square building was an outdoor dining room, for when the weather was fine. A national park backed onto the end of the grounds, just past the playing fields, and that was for an optional course called 'Survival', taken by the Head of the America dorm, Professor Gula. Obviously, Physical Education was taken outside.

Though looking round, Toris couldn't see any other buildings outside of the main school. No, wait- there was a small brick structure on the other side of the fenced Astroturf. The Physical students were collecting small bags from outside lockers before splitting off into two groups- boys on the left, girls on the left.

"No way."

Raivis and Eduard turned and grinned at their roommate.

"I am not taking PE as a girl."

Eduard threw him a small silver key, engraved with the number seven.

"Unless you can think of an excuse in the next five minutes, you are."

Chuckling, the two boys took their keys, retrieved their respective kit and turned left into the boys changing room. Toris was left outside, as it started to slowly drizzle. Cursing his evil friends, he practically ripped open the small locker and went into the girls.

* * *

"Bonjour, mon ami! Did you have fun?"

Toris handed over the accursed lilac card, and saw his body return to normal.

"No. It was the most humiliating experience of my life."

Monique flicked her flyaways back into her hair, and stared at him as she counted her day's rakings from her 'business'.

"Care to tell?"

"No. I can't talk about it."

"You may as well, I shall find out from my sister, Angelique, she is in your class-"

"No-one is able to talk about it."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I paid Raivis to make sure no-one could."

* * *

IT'S DONE.

This took me ages. And I probs won't update for around a month, I have finals.

Please follow, favourite and review.

And for those interested, there's an omake up for grabs if you can guess the identities of the Maths teacher and the PE teacher.


	6. 6: The Psychic Classes

**Chapter Six: The Psychic Classes**

**Thanks aron, thanks Sode.**

**Just so you know guys, this is the longest original story I've ever written, and it was just an annoying bunny. I should listen to my internal rodents more often.**

* * *

The Baltic Trio ended up hiding from an angry British telekinetic in the second-floor bathroom during break. The Bad Touch Trio had decided to serenade him with a rousing rendition of 'If You Were Gay.' Toris questioned how Arthur didn't figure out it was really the other three; Eduard answered with a statement of how Arthur would insist that his younger sister was a pickle if he would be forced to admit he was wrong.

After reassurance from Alfred, an American close friend of Arthur and a parasite, that the way clear, and it was reasonably likely that 'Iggy' wouldn't attack them, the three boys returned to their third- period class, Literature, with Professor Iceni.

The professor was a stern British woman, with long blonde hair let down loose, and a sharp navy suit. She had been registering the class when the four of them entered. The espionage agent clicked her tongue between her teeth and rolled her pale lime green eyes.

"Sit down and take out your texts and highlighters, boys."

Raivis and Eduard quickly shuffled to their desk at the back of the room, and Alfred scurried over to Arthur, sat listening intently at the front.

The only empty seat was one beside Anri Linden, Yekaterina's Belgian friend. He quickly walked over and asked to sit down. She picked up a ruler and swatted the air in the chair, then nodded. As he sat, she apologised for the strangeness.

"Sorry. Mattea comes into class invisible sometimes, so I have to check."

"Who?"

"Mattea, the invisible Canadian. Alfred's' sister. People sit on her, usually. But today, she's probably gone to follow someone."

Anri tucked her hair back behind her headband, tapped her nose twice, picked up a HB pencil and turned to her copy of 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban', just as the teacher passed Toris an ebook containing the same novel. He was just about to ask why; but remembered the incident in Maths. This was just a precaution against cheating in lessons.

Iceni took a worn hardback copy of the book off her desk, with a sticker with 'Teacher Copy' peeling off the back dust jacket, and opened it to a bookmarked page.

"If you would all turn to page 66, today we're discussing Rowling's intentions in the portrayal of Dementors. Read through the page, till Hermiones' dialogue in the seventh paragraph, and come up with a few ideas on what your think the author was trying to do. And for those of you who are new-" she looked at Toris- "or consistently forget-" she sent daggers at a boy with dark brown hair, violet eyes and glasses- "your end of term essay title is 'The Post- Coup D'Etat Wizarding Government.'"

Toris scrolled through the few pages, tapping on the screen, making notes as the other students scribbled in the margin of the text. He didn't notice the door open, and to close behind the thin air.

A polar-bear shaped backpack instantly appeared on the floor beside him, and he almost fell off his seat.

"Oops, sorry." A girl materialised next to the bag. She looked somewhere between Tina and Alfred- the same delicate features and violet eyes as the Finn, but shared sandy hair and a similar ahooge to the boy at the front. Her hair was tied in pigtails, and a burgundy beret perched on top of her head.

"You're in my seat- no, don't move-" as Toris began to move his things- "I was late, so I'm on the floor. There'll be another desk next lesson." She puffed up her cheeks and gave a small sigh. "Probably." She looked up, both startled and ashamed. "I'm Mattea, by the way."

"Toris."

She nodded and smiled, but gave him a small hard glare when he began to pick up his things again.

Toris knew when a person had made up their mind, and didn't bother to protest when the Canadian began to fade back, until he could only see the linoleum that served as floor. Professor Iceni cleared her throat, and the Psychic class collectively raised it's head toward the front of the room.

"Who would like to address their point?"

A boy in the third row raised his hand. "The dementors represent depression. Harry feels cold, isolated and alone, and is forced to relive the worst memories of his life."

The teacher nodded. "Well done Vash- can anyone else tell me why Rowling may have chosen to express them in this way?"

An Asian girl- one of the pair taking betting slips at breakfast, - answered. "In her autobiography, Rowling states she suffered from depression after the birth of her daughter in Portugal. This could be why she describes them such."

Arthur began to speak in the front row, "But they are very similar to Tolkien's Ringwraiths, in both description, actions, and depiction in film adaptations. Maybe dementors are Rowling's reference to the forefather of fantasy."

Iceni smiled. Arthur seemed to be her favourite student, which was understandable, they were the same nationality.

"Yes, and Ringwraiths are also bringers of death, with shrieking howls. They are also attracted to the One Ring. And if you remember, the Dementors of Potter are attracted to the Gaunt ring, due to it's status as a Horcrux."

Raivis, shaking a little- Eduard had said the Latvian was afraid of the Literature teacher- raised his hand.

The professor raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Yes, Raivis?"

"I-in reference t-to the Horcrux, in the f-fourth p-paragraph, it says that Harry feels cold in his heart- c-could that be foreshadowing Harry as a H-horcrux?"

She gave a manic grin and her eyes glazed over, not unlike Gilbert when Raivis accidentally used his powers yesterday. "YES! EXACTLY!" She pointed to the cowering boy at the back. "He's got it!"

Toris understood now- the teacher was intimidating to begin with, but when she psychotically agreed with whatever you said, she was terrifying.

Regaining her composure, she took a DVD out of her briefcase- all teachers seemed to have one these. "Now, we're going to play the scene, and write a few short notes on the similarities and differences between the scene in book and film."

There were a few short groans across the room. Iceni gave them a short lecture on the importance of practical writing, and threw a eraser at Alfred for backchat, which missed as he ducked expertly, and it landed on Toris' desk. The lesson ended abruptly with a shrill bell just as Toris finished writing his notes. Packing up, he fell back from Eduard and Raivis, telling them he'd meet them in the dining-room, and stayed behind to walk with Alfred, Arthur and Mattea.

The two boys were in the middle of a quarrel, so he begun to speak with Mattea, or 'Mattie' as she preferred. Her and Alfred were fraternal twins, and she was four days older. Toris presumed their mother had died, since she only mentioned their father, Benjamin G. Jones. Toris didn't ask why she used 'Williams' rather than 'Jones.' They'd both been taken six months ago, for Alfred first, then coming back for Mattea after Alfred showed the ability to become invisible, but lost it hours after his kidnapping, and showed weak telekinetic abilities after meeting Arthur.

The quartet stopped off at the American dorm to drop off their bags, where Arthur and Toris could collect them after lunch. It was electric blue, and covered with modern technology, as opposed to the Aestii dorm, which had a prairie- style decor in dark red, and was comfortably rustic. America was also a good deal smaller than Aestii, due to the overall lack of students, three compared to ten.

Their roommate was present, the Hispanic boy a year younger than Toris, whom Raivis had sat next to in Maths, masquerading as Antonio. The boy's name was Carlos Machado, a Cuban with a pleasant friendship with Mattie and a disdain, bordering on hatred for Alfred. He was making the few bonsai trees on the windowsill shrivel up when they entered, took one look at Alfred, his face dropped, grabbed a box of 'Death by Chocolate' ice cream and stomped off to his and Alfred's shared bedroom, tied dreads swinging behind him.

The four of them collected their lunch from the canteen, and they sat down underneath the trees in the outdoor courtyard. Toris almost asked if what Arthur had picked up was edible, but Mattie had warned him earlier to never question Arthur, especially about food. The other boys had stopped arguing, and Alfred waved over his Japanese friend, and his two companions.

The approaching trio seemed very mismatched- Kiku, a short, pale Japanese boy with the blankest expression Toris had ever seen, excluding Berwald- Ludwig, Gilbert's younger brother, a stoic young man with slicked blond hair and icy eyes- and finally, Feliciana, a rosy Italian girl who Ludwig was piggybacking across the courtyard, who seemed to suffer from some sort of attention disorder, from the amount of twitching she did.

All seven of them sat under the budding tree, eating lunch. Gauken catered for all the nationalities- Arthur's inedible swill, Alfred's hamburger, wurst and pasta for Ludwig and Feli, sushi for Kiku, and it seemed Mattie's slight plumpness came from the stack of pancakes in her lunch bag. Toris's paper sack contained cepelinai and a few breadsticks.

As they munched their way through, Feli approached Arthur.

"Have you seen Phillip today?"

Arthur shook his head. "I was going to lend him my notes on the portrayal of stereotypes in book four, but he never turned up for class. Did you ask Antonia?"

She nodded. "I checked the hospital as well in case Dr Sharqi had seen him, but he left soon after he saw Mina yesterday. She said he was going to his room."

"He never came in last night." said Ludwig.

Alfred perked up. "Dude, maybe he's run off! He always said he was going to blow this joint and go home."

Arthur clouted him in the back of the head with a spork. "Don't be ridiculous. Phil has more sense than that. He may have said things, but that doesn't mean he meant them. Toni is more likely to run home than he is."

"But that still doesn't solve why he's gone missing."

Toris thought as he chewed on his dumpling. Philip was the 'Portuguese sunshine bastard', to use his Romanian acquaintance's vocabulary, the older half-brother of Antonia. He could create visible light, he heard, and had made a running joke of 'sparkling vampires'. He'd gone to the hospital after Mina extracted vengeance for losing their bet. He wanted to go home to his father and stepmother in Spain, not be held as a kind-of prisoner in Canada, so it wasn't an unreasonable assumption that he may have gone to go home.

Feliciana spoke through a mouthful of spaghetti carbonara. "Maybe it's like what Mr Edelstein says."

Kiku spoke for the first time. "I doubt this is a United Nations testing facility, Felician-chan."

Alfred shrugged. "Rod's crazy, even I don't think we're here for experimental purposes. Hey, what are you doing fifth?"

"Art, with Feliciana- chan and Ludwig-san." Ludwig gave a visible shudder, and Feli a huge grin.

"Artie?"

"IT or Survival. Not sure." He furrowed his enormous eyebrows- god, there were about four where there should be one- "I'm leaning toward Survival."

"Matt? You're not going to that weird lingo class again, are you?"

Mattea sighed. "No. I'm going to Professor Gaulois's class." Arthur started choking and began to snort tea through his nose. Alfred smacked him hard on the back and he ended up falling face first into the floor.

"Toris?"

He just looked confused. "What are we picking for?"

"Oh yeah, you're new- seems like I've known you forever, huh? A few lessons a week we get to decide what lesson to go too. Artie, what have we got today?"

Arthur sat back up and clawed sod off his tongue, and rattled off a list of lessons. "Ancient Greek, Art, IT, RS, Survival, Child Development and Drama." He spat in the tree roots at the last word. "I don't know what you see in that class or that teacher, Mattea."

She frowned. "Just because he insulted your country in a passing statement. The Head insults Britain on a far more regular basis."

"I'm not going to be either taught or insulted by a child molester."

"Yet you'll be both taught and insulted by the man who was kicked out of Italian espionage for getting 'too into' his role?" Alfred questioned.

Arthur sent a pointed look his way, tilting his head to the left. "Given he was pretending to be part of the mafia elite, yes."

Sensing that trouble was brewing between his peers, Toris decided to butt in with his answer to the earlier question.

"I think I'll go to RS. None of the others seem particularly appealing."

The group exchanged amused looks.

"Dude, Dr Sharqi's going to rip into you."

"It would be amusing to see that."

"Veee~ that may not be the best choice…"

The bell rang quite suddenly, and the seven moved inside before Toris could ask any questions about the elusive Dr Sharqi.

* * *

Toris walked out of fourth-period History with Eduard and Raivis, and set off the stairs in the next wing. History class was taken by a sweet but nervous Eastern European woman, named Professor Kanafaska, the head of his dorm. The lesson was fascinating, but uneventful. It seemed the class was the only one the school was collectively both good at and interested in.

The other two paced outside for the second time to go too Survival, and Toris proceeded upstairs to go to RS. Walking down the corridor, he read the plaques outside the doors.

Textiles, Modern Foreign Languages, Additional Mathematics… Religious Studies!

Opening the door, Toris could see that Dr Sharqi was the school nurse who they had dragged Raivis to the previous night. She glanced up as he entered, analysing him with gold eyes. Her black bob bounced upward, and then she returned to entering data on her computer at the front of the room.

There were three other students in attendance- Antonia, a dark-skinned boy manipulating a small pile of sand in the back corner of the room, and Lovinio, Feliciana' older brother who'd made the basement collapse. Since the boy at the back looked like he didn't appreciate company, and Lovinio was trying to ward off Antonia with a cuddly tomato, Toris took a desk to the right of the arguing pair, and listened in.

"Do you want the Senor Tomato to die, bitch?"

"No, Lovi, but you are too cute not to hug!"

"Don't call me that, chigi! It's either the hug or the tomato, decide now!"

Antonia sulked, and took the tomato from Lovinio's hands. He smirked, triumphant for a brief second, until she stuffed the soft toy down her shirt and smothered him anyway.

"Get off me, fucking pervert!"

She let go and rest her face on her hands as she waggled her eyebrows. "You get even cuter when you blush and pout."

"I'm not!" he lied. He was doing both.

"Ahem."

The class turned the the front of the room. Dr Sharqi had stood up, and silently written, 'issues of love inside faith' on the board in front of her, in picturesque, flowing script. She swished across the beige classroom in a sand-coloured dress and doctor's lab coat, and handed out a bright yellow file to Toris.

"If you are quite finished-" she glared at the pair on Toris's left, neither of the Mediterranean students looked ashamed- "today we are discussing the views and ethics of some faiths in regards to-"

The door swung open, and a red-faced Poland gasped in the doorway. "Like, sorry I'm late, Miss. Pro Gaulois totally wanted me to test the gas taps in the labs."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Sit down, Mr Lukasiewicz. I will talk to your science teacher about your excuse later." Poland slunk into the seat next to Toris and took out a slim textbook from a neon pink shoulderbag he'd dumped on the floor, and re-applied a coat of bright pink lipgloss.

"Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to say today we are discussing ethics regarding homosexuality."

Poland's head shot up, then he shrunk down into his chair and hung his head slightly, and began to take great interest in his textbook. It seemed the Pole was suddenly ashamed of the lesson- wishing he'd never come in, in fact. It seemed to Toris that this was a sensitive topic to bring up, especially as one of the students in the class was a crossdresser, at least.

"Mr Vargas, what are your views on the subject?"

Lovinio looked distinctly uncomfortable. Toris supposed anyone would start to squirm, given both the pressure and the sensitive subject matter.

"I don't have a problem with it. I can see why people do, but as long as it's not in my space, I don't care if you're eating the face off a girl, guy or a fucking sheep."

The doctor gave a small frown. "See me after class for you language, Mr Vargas. Mr Hassan?"

The boy at the back had desisted from swirling sand into small pyramids and raised his hand. "Whilst I myself have nothing against homosexuals, sodomy is forbidden in all three holy books of the monotheistic religions. I believe that they should abstain."

Poland's face was bright red, and Toris could see the edges of his notepad smouldering, but the teacher just carried on. It was so unfair, that she didn't notice that student opinoins could have an effect on the others in the room.

"Thank you Gupta. Miss Carriedo?"

Antonia had morphed into Antonio, in what Toris assumed was a silent protest. He looked rather annoyed with the matter they were discussing, but less uncomfortable that the other participants.

"All religions state that love between spouses should be mandatory. Sex is a form of love, and I don't think any God would condemn anyone from showing love. All homophobic passages in book may be mistranslations of the original texts. The Bible was first translated from Greek to Latin."

The teacher smiled. "A fine argument." She turned, and her face fell. "What is it, Mr Lukasiewicz?"

Poland had somewhat nervously propped his hand on the table. "Ummm, homophobia is, like, condemned in the third 'I'd Really Rather You Didn't' so I think that everyone should just, like, get on with their lives."

Miss Sharqi sighed and sat upon her desk. "Mr Lukasiewicz, as much as you insist, I do not recognise the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- or the Church of the Invisible Pink Unicorn-" as Poland raised his hand again, only to slowly bring it down again; "as valid religious or ethical sources for my class."

"Why not?"

The teacher turned to Toris. "Excuse me?"

Astonished by his own boldness, Toris apologised. "I'm sorry, Miss,I-"

"It's quite alright, Mr Laurentalis. If you have an opinion in my class, you may say it. We cover issues which most people in his school have opinions about."

He took a deep breath. "It's unfair that you should dismiss other religions in favour of others as reliable sources. I can't say I've ever heard of either of those churches, but to say they're not worth discussing is is just as bad, in my eyes at least, as the discrimination you've just shown is exactly the same as the type we are debating today."

She just looked amused. "Are you comparing the LGBT acceptance movement to the legality of a claim that a sentient pasta meal created the universe?"

"No. I'm comparing the attitudes between those with prejudices against them."

She smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr Laurentalis. To go back to the subject at hand, what are your views on the issue?"she asked with a malicious grin.

Suddenly put on the spot, Toris begun to shake a little in his hands. He was thoroughly aware that all eyes were on him, and the teacher was expecting an answer. He inhaled deeply, and formed his argument mentally.

"I'm not a religious person, but I don't think anyone should have any stick over what they look like, who they love, or what they believe. Both the European Court of Human Rights and Fourteenth Amendment forbid persecution, and I'm not about to argue with decisions made by my elder and betters. People are people, and people should only have a problem with others that have a problem, and I don't think homosexuality is a problem."

Dr Sharqi looked proud. "Well reasoned, Mr Laurentalis." She brought her head up to address the five students. "Open your books to page sixty-eight and work through the exercises." She looked back down with a smile. "Use whichever faiths you want as fair ethical examples."

Toris touched his book and began to work through his assignment. A note was passed along to him, written on lilac stationary and in neon pink highlighter. It had a swirly underline, and was decorated with tiny pink hearts.

_Thank you._

It wasn't signed, but Toris could guess easily who it was from. Glancing aside at his roommate, chewing his hair, he wrote a reply in his secratary scrawl.

_You're welcome._

Reading it, Poland stared at him, and sent him a tiny, warm, shy smile, and he replied with one in return.

Sharqi noticed, but said nothing.

* * *

**Although she's probably not reading (but if you are, HI! YOU'RE FUCKING AMAZING!), I would like to dedicate this chapter too SweeneyOCD98.**

**I promise, this is the only ideological speech I will give in this for a **_**long **_**time. If I (or to be more correct, aron) have gotten the fourteenth amendment wrong, I'm British, so forgive me. **

**Aronpuma would like to say he thinks he is right, but correct him if he's wrong.**


	7. 7: Skulking Around

**Thanks to aron and Sode, my lovely betas.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven- Skulking Around**

Toris finished his questions a few minutes before the last bell of the day. He was reading one of the novels Professor Iceni had downloaded onto his e-book when it rang. Dr Sharqi rose from her desk.

"Pack up and leave. No homework, since none of you do it anyway."

Antonia gave a whoop of joy and dragged Lovinio out of the room by his tie, whilst he swore from behind her. Gupta had previously packed his bag in lesson, and left directly behind the pair. Toris decided to wait for Poland as he picked up the many bubblegum pink beauty products that had been strewn over their desk in the lesson. Some he recognised, some just looked like Inquisition torture devices. One had rolled off onto the floor.

Toris picked the fluorescent tube and handed it to his friend. Poland's eyes lit up.

"_Dziękujemy! _I'd be like, totally lost without foundation."

He re-applied the thick concoction as they began to proceed upstairs to their dorm. Whilst walking, Toris could make the observation that whilst Poland made good conversation and was pleasing to listen too, particularly in Lithuanian, he _never fucking shut up._

"So then, I was like, Monaco, darling, I have to know where you shop, but 'Nammie hit me with the oar- thingy she carries around with her, and then the nurse had to put eight stitches in my head." He lifted up his fringe revealing a scar along the edge, by his hairline- "Vietnam totally has, like, permanent PMS. So does Dr Sharqi, actually- she was more pissed when I woke up than when I came in to get stitched."

Though he couldn't get a word in edgeways, Toris kept listening. Poland was giving him information he'd most likely need when meeting the other, less mentally stable students. He found that the two girls taking betting slips at breakfast were Monaco and Vietnam, both who had limited precognitive abilities, and that you never mentioned any of the Balkan dorm students to the others, since they all despised each other. It was also rumored that a step sibling pair from Switzerland had a thing going on, but you never said it in front of either, unless you wanted to be run through with a magic sword.

Poland's voice grew less and less as they climbed the three flights of stairs up to the top floor. Giving up, he sighed and jumped over the banister, plummeting to the ground floor due to the inevitable force of gravity.

Toris ran over to the window to call the survival students to help, as they were re-entering the school building. However, turning round, it was totally unnecessary, as Poland defied the inevitable force of gravity by floating himself up through the gaps between flights of stairs.

"Like Leit, we should _totally _get escalators."

Shaking his head at the insanity, Toris followed the Pole as he ran up the stairs, taking two at a time to keep up with his friend. He saw that the Art class had been let out before them as he reached the top floor, as Poland was hovering above Kiku's head, talking to Feliciana.

Ludwig was hauling some mismatched contraption to the left side of the hallway, to the western dorm. Kiku was helping, and Feli was sitting on it, utterly oblivious she was making their task twice as hard.

"And then Grandpa told off Mr Raev, and Miss Drakulya walked out when they got mad."

"I'm like, totally glad she did. She might have set off."

The petite Italian looked distressed. "She did. I heard her before Miss Drakyula left."

Poland's face melted into an expression of horror. "Oh my God! I can't believe you saw that paint bitch in class!"

Feliciana's forehead furrowed downward, and seemed confused. "Veeee~ What paint bit-"

Ludwig and Kiku dropped the mass of metal- Toris was convinced it was a nuclear-missile painting easel- onto the floor, taking Feli with it. The pair also fell forwards, trying to catch it, and scraped themselves on the razor- sharp sides.

Shocked, Feliciana jumped up. "Let me help!"

Reaching down, she grabbed both of their hands, causing an excess of blush in both of them. Screwing her eyes shut, and concentrating hard, she began to glow a soft mint green. He watched in awe as the glow transferred from her body into the hands of her friends, sealing the wounds with barely a scratch. Opening her eyes and panting, hard, she released her grip.

Ludwig brushed the excess green residue off his hands onto his navy blazer. "Thank you, Feliciana."

The Italian looked up sleepily. "No problem." She then lay on the floor and began to snore softly, muttering something about penne tubes.

Picking up his friend in both arms, Ludwig addressed the Japanese student. "Would you mind-"

"Not at all, Ludwig-san."

Kiku brought his hand out to touch the easel of mass destruction. It morphed, going from filling the corridor, to almost invisible, to poking a leg out of the window. It settled on around the size of a soda can, and Kiku gently begun to carry it to the West side.

Poland settled himself back on the ugly eighty's carpeting and sauntered off in the other direction. Toris followed.

"I gather Ludwig makes the steampunk murder weapons?"

"Yup. Touch it- BAM!- mechanical. Bit random, so he's like dead restrained, but according to Prussia, Germany's always had a beaver log stuck up his ass."

* * *

They carried on walking past the nurse's room to Aestii at the other side of the floor. Entering, they saw that their other roommates, along with Yekaterina, Liz and Natalia had beaten them to their dormitory, and were doing homework on the desks scattered around the room. Liz lifted her head and waved, none of the others noticed their entrance.

The pair proceeded to the boy's room to drop off their bags. Pulling open the door with a loud creak, the faces of the other students shot up.

"No!"

"Stop!"

"Don't open the door!"

Mina was inside, sucking the face off the boy she followed constantly. Raising her flushed face to the door, they both turned bright red. The boy looked away, but Wilhelmina's eyes begun to flash again.

Toris only caught a brief glimpse of the green- though no doctors this time- before Poland clutched his hand. The strange thing was, the laughing intensified when he did. Twice as much, but higher, and less evil, more insane. There were shots of deep purple and orange between green, and an acrid, metal copper smell- a figure, no two, one with a brush, one with torn skin and hands covered in blood-

Flames filled his vision. He shrieked, and attempted to bat them away, but found they were cool, and did him no harm. Then, they faded, and he was in a brand new location.

The new room was pitch black, and smelled of old wood and ink. He brought his hand forward, only to met by a massive head rush- not unlike the one when-

He felt Poland unclench his grip, and fall to the ground. Suddenly, orange balls of fire exploded into life upon the ceiling, and he could see they were in library, and a large on at that, with shelves upon shelves of books. His friend seemed to be okay, so Toris checked the titles of the books in front of him.

Staring at the first, the words begun to play in his head.

Louis Creed, who had lost his father at three and who had never known a grandfather-

He sighed. He'd done it again. Judging from the size of his hands, he'd gotten most of the section. He was just grateful that he didn't forget actual things he needed to remember to make room for the mostly useless information he got from books.

Poland groaned from the floor.

"casting the severed leg aside. It landed on the lawn with an indescribable thud."

"Beverly only lay sprawled on the pavement for a moment," said Toris.

"sure somewhere inside she must wake soon, this couldn't be real, had to be a dream."

Poland looked up, and the pair stared at each other a moment, uncertain of what just happened.

Toris asked. "Have you even read that book?"

"I like, don't even know what it is."

Toris came to a conclusion; touching someone whilst absorbing the information from printed text must also allow them to take in the savantic knowledge as well, and he told Poland so, though in much smaller words.

His face lit up. "Like, awesome! We can get Normal Korea back!"

Toris was confused. "What?"

"We can get South Korea back, if you can get everyone to learn English."

"Doesn't everyone in the school already know English?"

Poland rolled his eyes. "Leit, there's forty-four students at this school, and only a few speak English as a first language. Is it like, totally expected for them to be fluent?"

Toris considered. It did make sense, so he nodded in agreement.

"But how does South Korea come into this?"

"Korea, like controls electricity and stuff, and brainwaves are kind of electricity, so she stays upstairs all day and translates them so everyone can understand each other."

"Makes sense."

Poland strode off to an open area of the room, with tables and chairs. Toris followed behind, noticing that the fireballs followed them as they walked. His blond friend seated himself at a hexagonal table and took out a beige notebook, and begun to scribble in purple Sharpie in it.

Toris had a short essay to write on the war of 1812, so he wandered over to the history section. Searching through book titles in limited light, he found on that looked relevant, and prodded it with his finger. As he pushed it inwards, a small girl fell out of the other side with a small "Oof."

"What did you do that for, jerk?"

She rose gradually from where the bookcase cast its shadow in front of him. The girl was blonde, with slightly bushy eyebrows and blue eyes. She readjusted a sailor hat perched on the top of her head, and pouted at him. Judging by their shared eyebrows and overly British accent, this was Arthur's twelve-year-old sister, Morgan.

As Toris began to apologise, Poland yelled from the work area.

"Like, GTFO or I'll burn your sweet little panties off, Sealand."

Enraged, Morgan shouted back. "You can't tell me what to do! You're not my brother!"

"One, like that makes any difference, two, exactly- I can do what I want, three, since when has that like, ever stopped me before?"

Morgan scowled, and melted back into the shadows.

Toris walked back to his friend still seated at the table.

"What on earth is Sealand?"

"Like, a micronation just off Britain. It was either that or the Jersey Islands."

Toris rolled his eyes, and stared back at him. "You just have to make things complicated. I can tell you remember everyone's name."

He flashed a toothy grin. "I have no idea what you're like, talking about, Lithuania."

They continued their homework in silence, with the occasional question or joke. Poland would sometimes throw a fireball in random directions, accompanied by small shrieks of outrage. It seemed that both Morgan, and 'Taiwan' liked to spy on people. It was nice, just the two of them together, working, without the craziness that was the rest of Gauken. Well, Poland was crazy, but the right amount of crazy to be enjoyable.

Toris completed his essay in less than an hour, and Poland had given up on his homework ages before, and had begun doodling over the front of his exercise book. Toris had to admit, the library was comfortable, but the light was hurting his eyes, and being underground had always unnerved him.

"Hey, Poland-"

"Feliks."

Toris was confused. "Excuse me?"

"Like, call me Feliks. It's my name."

Now even more befuzzled, Toris continued. "Okay… so how do we get out? Are there stairs, or an elevator or something?"

Poland- no, _Feliks _shook his head. "Not since, like Romano got pissed at Latvia."

"Ohh.. okay, so how do we get out?"

Feliks offered his hand. "The same way we got in. The library's teleport-only at the moment."

For some reason, Toris was hesitant to take the outstretched palm. He mentally slapped himself for being so awkward- nothing wrong with holding a guys' hand to teleport out of an underground library through a wall of fire.

It took a moment for his brain to process that.

His friend frowned for a second. "Is something like, wrong, Leit?"

Toris shook his head quickly. "No, nothing."

Taking Feliks's hand- why did he feel so nervous doing that- they both vanished into the flames, and re-appeared in the dormitory common room.

Feliks ran off to get students from other dormitories- they'd brought several language-English dictionaries with them, so they could solve the school language dilemma- and Toris sat down next to Elizaveta, on the sofas by the fireplace.

She smiled. "Had fun?"

He nodded. "As both annoying and strange as he is, Feliks isn't that bad to be around."

Her eyebrows hiked toward the ceiling, and her smile grew malicious, then fell back into kind. She looked both happy and somewhat wistful, maybe with a touch of regret.

"No, he's not. Maybe you should both spend more time together."

Toris replied. "I plan too."

"You both deserve it."

She grinned again, and went back to work as Feliks re-entered with most of the school behind him, leaving Toris to forget to contemplate her words.

* * *

**I have no words.**

Although, if anyone knows which two books they quote from in the library scene, or where the chapter title comes from (without searching) I am willing to answer with one free spoiler of your choice.

**Please skip to the end if you're not interested now.**

**This will be a trilogy: three fics in total. Two is an adventure story, in three I'm going to expand on how this universe works, since I've only just figured it out.**

**Please follow, favourite and review. **


	8. 8: Crowford Town

**Chapter Eight: Crowford Town**

**Thanks to Sode, aron, and HEL.**

* * *

_Friday was surprisingly uneventful, compared to the previous day. Toris went to Music, which was taken by an excitable Chinese woman named Professor Ling. They were composing pieces based on their heritage, so Toris left halfway through the double period. There were only so many sharp chords a brain could take- most of the Asian students attended that class._

_The second half of the double options block was taken up by a Latin class, which he decided he was thoroughly useless at. Headmaster Vargas taught it, but at a very advanced level. Only Feliciana, Lovino and Antonia actually took it on a permanent basis, due to their similar native languages. The headmaster also seemed to be as insane as most of the students- he climbed up on the desk and barked like a dog when illustrating the plot of a story. And Toris didn't quite understand why 'Caecilius is in the garden' was so hilarious._

_History was fun- it was always fun for Toris- and Science was entertaining enough, with an adult version of Monique Bonnefoy attempting to molest Arthur Kirkland at every given opportunity. Toris questioned the decision to make a perverted French man the head of the science department, but then again, he questioned most of the things at Gauken._

_The last class of the day was Mathematics. Mr Kerkouane knew just as well as Toris did that he had attended one his classes before, but aside from a few harsh looks, no acknowledgement was made of the fact was made. Toris proceed upstairs to his dormitory, accompanying Feliks when the crossdresser emerged from History._

Jon-heong finished his second log in the new green exercise book he'd gotten for the purpose of watching Toris Laurentalis, and stared at his fingernails, which were covered in white spots. He hated leaving his dormitory- he'd have to interact with people- but he assumed it was necessary, for the sake of his health. He sighed, and the Korean left for the nurse's office where he would get iron tablets to ease his anemia.

* * *

Toris was pushed back as an angry-looking Asian boy in dark green barged past him to go to the staircase to reach the upper floors. He looked up to face Feliks, who was floating on the ceiling again. Toris was trying very hard not to look up his friend's skirt by accident.

"Who was that?"

Poland snorted. "North Korea. Paranoid bastard totally never leaves his room."

Toris was trying very, very hard to not look up at the moment. It was getting annoying for him- he liked to be able to look at a person's face when he spoke to them, and right now it was quite impossible to do so with Feliks. The situation was getting more and more awkward the longer he avoided addressing it. He eventually manned up around the second floor.

"Feliks?"

The blond looked down. "Hmmm, Leit?"

"Can you get down? On the floor, maybe? I can kind of see..."

Feliks smirked, and wiggled his eyebrows. "Like, like what you see?"

To be honest, Toris should have been expecting that.

* * *

On the weekends, the students had the chance to wander into the local town. Crowford was further down the mountain range than the school, but one got awfully cramped isolated from the outside world, so most students braved the trek to have a change of scenery.

Toris walked with South Korea, Im Kun-woo, wrapped in a scarf and large coat. She had wellies up to her knees, and wore an adorable bobble hat- the weather was unusually cold.

"So your brother never comes down to town?"

She shook her head. "Jon-heong hardly leaves the dorm at all. He never even goes to class. You've never seen him, have you?"

Toris thought. Why he'd never seen Kun-woo in lessons was understandable, she'd been powering the school system- but her elusive twin had no excuse. Though he had seen him the previous day, it was commonly assumed throughout the school that Jon-heong hardly left his room because he couldn't face the modern world- he had the power to take and object and spin it to an earlier form of itself. A tablet became a computer, a gun became a sword, etcetera.

A sudden blast of heat arrived from behind.

"Hey, Kun-woo! Let me walk with you!"

She smiled at the islander. "Keep that warmth up and I'll carry you."

Angelique Bonnefoy skipped further down the hill to catch up. Toris had learned that the Seychellois was three years younger than both himself and the Koreans, making her one of the youngest students at thirteen, and she had the power to control temperature. In a normal school, they would have probably never spoken- but as neither the students or the education system at Gauken were particularly normal, that changed.

As the two girls began to talk- something about a 'doujinshi', he had no idea what that was, and he was also certain he didn't want to know- he began to drift back to the group of Eastern European students travelling along the mountain road on the other side. Feliks stood slightly to the left, and looked lonely, so he decided to walk with him. The Poles face brightened as he approached.

"Hey, Leit!"

"Hey, Feliks. Do you usually go down to town?"

"Like, every week! The school like, totally cramps my style." he shuddered. "Plus, I'm here, and Mina's back up there."

Toris nodded. The weekly absence of Wilhelmina Drakyula seemed to always be a resounding factor in students visiting Crowford. Her sadistic nature and disregard for inter-personal safety resulted in almost permanent detention, accompanied by her refusal to take different classes than Nickolas Raev, her Bulgarian boyfriend. At Gauken meant not leaving the school.

"I agree. I wouldn't like a repeat of Thursday."

Feliks pouted. "So the library was like, really bad, huh?"

Suddenly flustered, he replied quickly. "N-no, it's just well, she attacked us, and I don't want to lose my sanity, and I didn't mean I didn't like what happened-" he stopped when he realised his friend was giggling.

"Oh, Leit. You're totally cute when you're embarrassed."

He looked shocked at what he said, and blushing furiously, they both walked south in silence.

* * *

Crowford Town was a primarily logging town surrounded by pine trees for miles. The town in itself was decently sized, with a long main street and a mall, surrounded by suburbs. Toris saw most of the school saunter off into the mall, Reneè and An-Tru wander into some new age store, and Gilbert dragging his brother off into an Arby's. He wondered where to go, till he felt a gloved hand grab his arm.

"Dude, wanna come with?"

Toris grinned at his American friend, and joined Mattea, Arthur and Alfred in walking up the street. They reached a shop made out of grey timber, and a small bell chimed as they went inside.

A friendly round man waved at them as they went inside. "Hello, customers! Please make your order and sit down, your beverages will be here shortly."

Arthur sighed, and took a piece of paper from the order notepad.

"The usual? One Earl Grey, no milk, two sugars, one hot maple chocolate with waffle sauce, and one mocha latte with nine shots of espresso, whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles?"

The other two nodded, and placed their coats round the circular wooden table closest to the stove, farthest from the door, which was blowing an uncomfortable draught. Looking round, he could see why the three seemed to be regulars. It was small and somewhat run-down, but cosy and had a family kind of feel to it.

"Toris? What do you want?"

He stared at the board, and then looked in his wallet. As much as he'd like a few vodka coffees, it was both too expensive and most likely illegal for him to drink in Canada.

"Cinnamon latte?"

Arthur scrawled down the last drink and took him over to the siblings. Toris pitied the poor man who would have to decipher what any of them wanted- Arthur's handwriting was illegible, even worse than his own. Sitting down to Alfred's left, and brushing snow out of his hair from an earlier flurry, he noticed Alfred hadn't taken his gloves off. Come to think of it, Alfred never took his gloves off.

Mattea and Alfred were discussing something in a mix of Latin Spanish and Quebecois- they mentioned the word 'father'- but were suddenly quiet as the other two boys took their seats. Breaking the awkward silence, Toris asked an obvious question.

"Why are there no people around?" It was true- he'd hadn't seen any of the local residents since they'd arrived, only the coffee shop owner. Strange, he suspected, for a small town of a weekend. Back in Lithuania, he'd watch people wander into the town centre quite often.

Arthur lowered his voice. "We have an unofficial agreement. We come on Saturday, the town stays out, most of us stay back on Sunday, and the town does what it wants."

"Why does that happen?"

Mattea whispered. "This town used to have two shopping streets. Then a couple of months ago, just after me and Alfred arrived, Monique completed the Bad Touch Trio."

Toris didn't have time to respond, as the blond shopkeeper arrived with their drinks. Alfred thanked him.

"Dude, you're the best."

The owner gave a nervous smile. "Only the best for Mr Vargas's grandchildren's friends. Enjoy."

Toris began to wonder how far Crowford's fear of the Headmaster's mafia connections went. They drank their coffee, paid the bill- at the cut price, Toris wished he'd ordered those shots- and left.

* * *

The other trio wandered off to the mall after their coffee, leaving Toris alone on the main street. Seeing no other place, he walked towards the shop he'd seen Vietnam and Monaco enter when they all arrived earlier.

The store was painted a dark green, and featured several tourist trap Inuit collection items in the window- beads, dreamcatchers, a few miniature totems- but what struck Toris the most was the ball- jointed dolls nesting on the inside sill. Painted on the store sign were the words, 'Crépuscule de la mort.'

Entering, he could see that the store mainly dealt in dolls and local geology. There was an abundant mess of the figures and rocks everywhere, on shelves in cabinets and hanging from the ceiling. The rocks weren't so bad, but the emptiness in the doll's eyes was definitely unnerving him.

Reneè and An- Tru were drinking tea and were in deep conversation with the girl at the counter, in the back of the store.

"Damn it with being cryptic, Maya!" An-Tru slammed her fist in the desk. "Just tell us if anything new has come up!"

Maya leant back in her chair, propped her feet on the table and took a sip from her teacup. "It has."

Reneè looked terrified. "Then what is it?"

"I can't say."

"Uhh!" Reneè leant her face in her hands. "I know knowing can make the future change, but what harm is there really in doing that? We change the future every time we choose to do anything."

"True. But sometimes knowing speeds up the the process, rather than delays it. Anyways, we have a guest."

Both girls facing to the back of Toris turned to see him. An-Tru spoke first.

"What is it that you want?"

Slightly taken aback at her rudeness, he answered. "Nothing. Just looking around."

"Well, does it look like you are welcome?"

"Calm yourself, An-Tru."

The Vietnamese girl swiftly snapped her head back around to stare at the owner. Now his classmates had moved, Toris could see that she was around the same age as the eldest students at Gauken- around nineteen. She was of Indian or Pakistani origin, and long dark hair was pulled off her face by a purple bandana.

Reneè introduced them. "Toris, this is Maya. Maya, Toris."

She bowed her head. "It is nice to meet you, Toris. I trust you are new to the Academy?"

He must have looked shocked, because she began to giggle. "Do not worry, I know of your school, and what it is for. I believe I would attend myself if it were to be known what I can do though I do not think it would be a wise decision, considering the impact."

"What is that you do?"

"What's it to do with you?" An-Tru accused, before Reneè gave her a curt glare.

Maya tapped her nose and gave an enigmatic smile. "Well, Toris, we hardly know each other, and you're asking such personal questions."

"Questions that on precognitives should know the answer too."

"An-Tru!"

The girl shrugged. "It's true."

Maya glared at her. "And maybe not all precognitives deserve all the answers."

An-Tru stared at the older girl for a moment, then jumped off her stool. "Come on Reneè. We're leaving this hack shack."

"But-"

"NOW, Reneè."

The girl in pink followed her green-clad friend out onto the street, wincing at the bitter early November cold.

"I'm very sorry about her. She knows too much already, and is desperate to learn even more."

Maya drained her teacup to the dregs and stared into it.

"I'm afraid I cannot answer your earlier question now, but feel free to ask again when you need the information more." He open his mouth to ask another question, but she raised her hand to silence him."And yes, I assure you I do have the abilities that connect your school."

Toris looked at her. "You're not very secretive about having powers- why doesn't the government find you?"

She gave him a cheeky grin. "I presume they are- but who looks for India in Canada?"

Even more creeped out now, and running out of time before he had to go up the mountain way again to return to the school, Toris began to leave. As he was walking out of the door, Maya addressed him.

"Be nice to her, will you? Take care of them both when you meet Eva."

He turned. "What?"

She smiled softly. "Be kind to them both at the end. Thank you, and please come again."

Now even more confused, he finally left Crépuscule de la mort.

He thought nothing of it when they returned to Gauken, and the Indian girl slid to the back of his mind, only to be remembered when she was needed again.

* * *

**IT'S DONE.**

**So much foreshadowing in this. To quell any questions, yes, Maya is India. Yes, she knows stuff that no-one else does. Yes, she'll re-appear, and no, I will not tell you who Eva is- that's up for speculation.**

**Please follow favourite and review. Dbm out.**


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